


Blaze of Glory

by Savorysavery



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Character Death, F/F, Gore, Horror, Pants wetting, Romance, Torture, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorysavery/pseuds/Savorysavery





	Blaze of Glory

**Summary:** Korra doesn’t like to be cheated on at all.

 **Genre:** Horror, Romance, Tragedy

 **Rated:** NC-17

 **Warnings:** Character Death, Gore, Pants Wetting, Torture

* * *

 

 

When Korra found out Asami had cheated on her, she wasn’t even sad.

 

A righteous anger filled Korra, like the burn of a flame that started in her gut. She _couldn’t_ be sad: Asami’s transgression felt like betrayal, not desertion.

 

“I can’t believe it!” she shouted, air whipping about her room. The window shutters, flapped, clattering together until they tore from the pane. Her sheets and covers tangled around each other, and the trinkets on her dresser flew to all four corners. “That… that…” her anger flared, and she sputtered, unable to find the words.

 

Korra’s barricade had held though: a shelf and her desk lodged against the door. She’d done it two days ago when Asami and Mako –together, of course, because they didn’t have the decency to just break up and make things freaking _perfect_ again – had approached her and told her of their relationship. Though it was guilty news, the happy couple couldn’t keep from smiling, slight, small curves of their thin, bow shapes lips. It drove Korra insane, but somehow, she had forced herself to say, “I hope you two are happy together.” Surprisingly, it came out without malice, and Korra had even offered a smile.

 

Yet now, all the rage she’d wanted to release came out, and she threw herself to the ground, beating the floor with her fists. “That _wretched_ slut,” she whispered. “I’ll teach her a lesson.” She repeated that phrase until her tongue felt heavy and she was on her back, exhausted, hair a wild mess of chocolate tangles. “She needs to be cleansed,” Korra said aloud. “She needs her sins taken away.” And then the most _miraculous_ thought occurred to Korra.

 

_I’ll burn away her sins._

 

Finding Asami wasn’t hard, of course: she knew she’d be in her garage. It was her refuge, and used to be Korra’s back, when the smells of motor oil and the sound of drills were comforting. Now, hearing Asami’s work made her _sick_ , and she gagged.

 

“Hey,” Korra said, schooling her face into a smile.

 

“Hey there, girlfriend,” Asami replied. She stood up, smiling. “What brings you here?”

 

“Just wanted to see you, _girlfriend_ ,” Korra answered, smile morphing a bit. It seemed to have a hint of darkness in it now. “How are you, _girlfriend_?”

 

Asami stepped back. “Korra… are you alright?”

 

“Of course, _girlfriend_ ,” Korra replied. She crouched down, toying with a wrench. “Just wanted to come hang at the shop.”

 

“Well, I’m almost done so-”

 

“Shut up.” Korra’s command was harsh, and Asami listened, slamming her red lips shut. “Come here. Closer.” Asami obliged nervously, stepping closer. “Idiot,” Korra whispered, bringing up the wrench. It cracked into Asami’s skull, sounding a dull noise.

 

“K-Korra…” she groaned, legs suddenly like jelly, sending her pitching  all about, in uneasy, unsteady steps. Asami’s eyes glazed over and she went limp, tumbling to the ground in a knocked out – _probably knocked up by that red eyed ass_ , Korra thought- heap of limbs.

 

When Asami woke, she was bound to a wooden chair, one of the ones she kept in her garage for anyone who came and waited for her, or just needed a seat other than the sticky cement ground.

 

“Wha…” Asami groaned, head still heavy. She blinked, clearing her fuzzy mind, and looked around. She was still in the garage, but now, she was immobile. “Korra?”

 

Korra turned around, moving from Asami’s work table. She had a metal can clutched in one hand, and an eerie smile. “Wakey-wakey, Asami,” she tittered. “Time to free yourself from your sins.”

 

Asami felt a spike of fear rush through her as Korra got closer. The sound of liquid sloshing about echoed in the room. “S-Sins?”

 

“Yeah,” Korra said, stopping in front of her. “Your cheating, remember? And all the disgusting things you did. Did he taste good when you kissed him? Does he eat moon peaches so his _dick_ tastes good, just for you? Did he make you _scream_ like a two yuan whore downtown?” She leaned back.

 

Asami blushed, bright red beneath her honey skin. “Korra, why am I tied up in a chair?”

 

“Because, _Asami_ , you need to learn a lesson: you don’t cheat on me and get forgiven.” Korra shifted, and the gasoline sloshed from the canister, spilling all over Asami. She poured it all over her, head to toe, spilling extra in those pretty jet locks and letting it pool on her shoulders. It trickled down, seeping into Asami’s jacket and the pristine, white undershirt she wore beneath.

 

“Korra!” Asami screamed. “That’s gasoline!”

 

“I know.” Korra tossed the can aside, and it clattered, skittering across the floor. When she turned back, her ice blue eyes were dilated, black consuming the blue. “I _know_.” She snapped her fingers and when she did, a small, orange flame ignited at the tip of her index finger.

 

“Korra,” Asami whispered. “That’s fire.”

 

“Always the obvious with you, isn’t it?” Korra  asked. “Think I’m dumb?”

 

“No, just dangerous,” Asami said, shuddering. “I’m scared.”

 

“You should be,” Korra hissed. “Because you’re not leaving this garage.”

 

Asami shuddered, and the acidic scent of urine rose up from beneath the gasoline. She felt her cheeks turn bright red, and the seat and crotch of her pants became sopping wet, chilling quickly. “Spirits, you just _pissed_ yourself like a baby,” Korra teased. “Maybe you cheating was a good thing. I don’t like immature girls.”

 

“K-Korra, stop,” Asami begged, stuttering. Her nerves were showing: Asami’s ticks always manifested in her stuttering, when she was nervous, sad, or feeling any emotion strongly. “D-Don’t d-do thi…this!”

 

Korra sighed, crossing her arms. “No go,” she replied. “Your fate has been decided. But don’t worry,” Korra said, leaning forward. Her face was inches from Asami’s, and the black of her pupils were consuming her eyes. “Be like Zaheer and let go your earthly tether. Maybe you’ll discover some way to escape here, hmm?”

 

Asami shuddered, wanting to lean all the way back from Korra. She felt invaded, and deeply frightened, and the gnawing sensation that this was it was beginning to sink in.

 

“I’ll keep you forever,” Korra whispered, dropping her weight into a stance a good measure back. After all, this was Asami’s punishment, not hers: she didn’t want to get burnt because that would be _terrible_. She shifted her feet should width apart, fists clenching and unclenching in time to her heart. “I promise I won’t forget you. I’ll even put your remains in a nice urn, all green like your eyes.” Korra tilted her head. “Or maybe red like your lips.”

 

Asami was writhing now, had spinning from the saccharine scent of gasoline. It was beginning to itch at her throat and shoulders, where Korra  had poured it the most, in liberal glugs of urine yellow-brown fluid. She wanted desperately to scratch at it, to sop up the fluid and cleanse her body from the slow, roaring burn. “Please,” Asami said, though it was muffled by the strip of cloth at her lips. “Korra, don’t do this. You’re crazy!”

 

“No,” Korra whispered. “You’re the crazy one. You cheated, and that’s worthy of punishment. I just wish you’d get it.” Korra clucked her tongue. “But you won’t, even in death. It’s kind of sad, actually. But,” she sighed, “oh well.”

 

Korra let silence fill her entire being and she breathed in deep, and when her lungs felt full, near popping full, she pushed out every bit of breath, and fire exploded from her fists.

 

The fire consumed Asami’s hair first, taking her pride and joy. The slick, wavy, jet locks turned to ash, falling about Asami like a broken halo, charred and reeking of dead cells. Asami’s shoulders caught next, a lock of flaming hair igniting her jacket. The cotton fabric was consumed, fed by the gasoline soaked into the fibers. It scorched at Asami’s chest, and when the skin peeled from her, like an onion, she began to scream in earnest.

 

Korra giggled like a child at the sounds, drinking them down. She felt eerily giddy, and she laughed louder, filling every corner of Asami’s garage with loud guffaws that sounded too sweety and tinny for the famed Avatar. “Korra!” Asami shouted. “Put it out!”

 

“No,” Korra replied. “You need to learn a lesson so you’ll _never_ do this again.”

 

At this rate though, Asami wouldn’t _live_ to do this again.

 

The fire raged on, finally starting in on her throat and face. It crept downwards too, eating at Asami’s gut and thighs, kissing her crotch and caressing her hips with bright orange tongues of flame. Asami had been burnt before, when she worked on Satomobiles or welded, but never like this. This was a full body flare that felt like she was being burnt inside and out.

 

 _I don’t wanna die_ , Asami thought. She started to rock the chair side to side, and on the seventh rock, it toppled to the side, laying her in a small pool of gasoline. The flames gobbled it up, drinking it down and the flames shot up, excited and merry.

 

Asami stopped screaming as soon as her nerves went numb. The fire continued to lick at her, consuming ghte human kindling offered up to the flames. Korra watched quietly, swaying side to side, waiting for the end.

 

Asami’s tears sizzled up in the heat, and Asami felt angry. She was denied even the right to cry, and in the moment, that made her fight come back. She wiggled, trying to break free from the chair, but it was futile, and only served to burn the length of chain wrapped around her deeper into her flesh. The links, each one, burned into the meat of her body, making her feel like the sizzling duck skewers served at their –Korra and Asami’s– favorite restaurant, a back alley fried foods place that covered everything in a two coats of bread crumbs, flour and buffalo yak milk.

 

 _I’m sorry_ , Asami had wanted to whisper. She _did_ feel guilty for cheating, guilty for not simply leaving Korra. But Mako had been so gentle with her, so sweet, had lifted her up when Korra had simple _left_. Had paid attention to her when Korra ignored her letters, had touched her where Korra had never gone. It was a wholly enticing thing, falling for Mako again. A full body experience that practically roiled her world each time they touched or even gazed at one another.

 

And Korra meant for her to pay for it. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and Asami’s life for Korra’s anguish.

 

Now though, Asami didn’t feel sorry. She felt cold, an odd sensation despite the fire licking at her soon to be corpse body. Her eyelids fluttered and when she closed them for the third time, the world faded from her, and she found immersed in an endless, boundless fog, silence her only companion.


End file.
